Sing Sweet Mockingbird
by Mordred's-deathly-Lullaby
Summary: "I could kill you right now," he whispers. "I don't care." " I could show you your worst fears." "Living without you would be far worse." He was quiet again and the heat coming from his body was incredible as he had me pushed up against the wall. It was hard to believe that this was the same boy I had met in first period. "Sing me a song, sweet Mockingbird," he whispers.
1. Chapter 1

I walked into the classroom, chemistry I think. I wasn't really paying attention. It's my first day at this school and I wasn't really all there. It's the middle of the school year and I had just moved here. My parents liked to move a lot, liked seeing different places. God knows we had enough money for it. We weren't exactly poor.

I had moved every summer for the past five years. I'll tell you, Gotham was not my favorite place. I couldn't wait to leave already. It was dreary, and rainy, sad. The streets were full of crime and you just couldn't go out at night anymore. Not without getting mugged or worse...killed.

This was a nightmare for me. I liked the country, having been raised on a ranch most of my life. The only good thing that came out of this trip is that we are now residing in a three story house, plus the attic, in practically the middle of nowhere. I had gotten to keep my horse, Rosie. I loved her, she was my baby. There was nothing I loved more doing than taking care of her.

Rosie is a beautiful pure white mare with a dark tail and mane. She was just beautiful. She was built strong for running and jumping. She was competitive, and she loved to race. She was also a very protective horse. I adored her. I've had her since I was thirteen, I'm almost eighteen now.

"Ah, class our new student has arrived!" The shrill voice of my new teacher broke me from my thoughts. I took a good look at him. He was probably in his late fifties, early sixties, with a slightly balding head and dark hair turning grey. "My name is Mr. Bowen, welcome to my class! Class, this is miss Miley Parkinson! Take a seat,dear, over by mister Crane, over there with the glasses."

I did as I was told and sat down beside the boy.

The boy beside me looked really smart. He had dark brown hair, bangs hanging slightly in his crystal blue eyes, eyes which were hidden behind rectangular glasses, pale skin, and perfect composure. In fact, he looked rather board, if not annoyed that I was sitting beside him.

"Hello, um, I'm Miley," I introduced. He hesitated, like he was going to ignore me, but then he opened his mouth and turned to me to speak.

"Jonathan Crane," that was all he said before he turned away. His voice was sweet, compelling. He had a slight Irish accent and it was cute.

"It's nice to meet you Jonathan."

"No, it's not," he replied shortly.

"What?"

"You haven't met Scarecrow. If you had, it wouldn't be nice to meet me."

"Scarecrow?"

"His imaginary friend,"sneered someone in front of me. I rolled my eyes.

"That's kind of creepy,'' I whisper. Jonathan shrugged and refused to talk anymore. We began our assignment.

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**Thanks for reading! This is the first chapter of many! Don't worry, other chapters will be longer than this one. Please review! Oh! I almost forgot! I own nothing but Miley and her family and her story. **


	2. Chapter 2

**Sorry it's been so long! Please review, and thank you for the earlier reviews I received!**

I sit at the small fountain with my guitar in my hand, strumming slowly and singing along.

"They slit our throats  
Like we were flowers  
And our milk has been devoured

When you want it  
goes away too fast  
Times you hate it  
always seem to last.  
Just remember when you think you're free.  
The crack inside your fucking heart is me.

(I wanna outrace the speed of pain for another day.  
I wanna outrace the speed of pain for another day)"

I didn't notice Jonathan sitting beside me, blue eyes fixed upon my form until I looked up to switch the page I'd been studying the song from. When I did see him I almost fell back into the water.

"Jonathan? What are you doing?"

"Why would you sing about something so depressing?"

"Uh, well, it's a Marilyn Manson song, and I love him and this song. I just wanted to learn a song I really like." His eyes study me, watching me, analyzing me, any word choice you can think that would give you the shivers. "How long have you been sitting there?"

"Since 'when you want it, does away to fast.'" Well, at least he's honest.

"Oh, is there something you needed?"

"You are good at the subject Reading."

"Yeah, how'd you know that, and what about it?"

"We share 1st, 3rd, and 4th hour together. The same Reading class. That class seems to be the only class that my grades are below a A in. I have a C and it needs to come up."

"Are you asking me to help you?" Jonathan fixes his glasses on his face.

"It is embarrassing, and I would be great-full if you not breathe a word of it to anyone." I bite my lip to hold back a laugh. He is so awkward. "This doesn't mean that we are friends." My laughter immediately dissipates.

"Right, just study buddies, then?" He seems to asses the wording before he slowly nods his head."Alright, we can start now. We had that analogies paper, you have that in your binder?" He nods again and goes through his binder for the paper while I get lined paper out and a pencil, and begin writing down all of the different kinds of analogies and when they are used.

"Alright, see this here, number 6) **DIDACTIC **is to...what? Do you know what didactic means?" He shakes his head. "When someone is talking about a didactic person, they mean a teacher like influence. And a teacher teaches, so your first part of the answer would be **Teach**. Now, the second part is rather easy when you know the first part, you just have to decide what category of analogy it is."

"And how do I figure that out?"

"Well, uh, in this case, teach refers to the place that didactic belongs. It's like a kind of definition, I suppose. But the category would be **Pertaining to **because, that's what it does."

"Hmm," Jonathan stares at the paper. "I suppose I get that."

"Good, 'cuz that is easy."

"What is **Degree of Intensity?**"

"Degree of Intensity is when the two words express a similar concept, but one word is stronger, harsher, or more intense than the other. On number 36) ** Knoll : **, a knoll is a large landscape, much larger than a hill or mountain. So your answer would be **Knoll : Mountain, Degree of Intensity.**"

"I see. I think I get it now. Thank you," he says politely and stands up.

"You're welcome, Jonathan. I'll help you any time."

He nods and walks off. I smile and shake my head. He isn't really a dork like everyone says. If anything, it's cute. I think he will rethink his offer on no friends thing soon enough. Lord knows he needs a friend.


End file.
